


Give in to me

by rufflefeather



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bodyswap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-02
Updated: 2012-05-02
Packaged: 2017-11-04 17:45:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufflefeather/pseuds/rufflefeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin has to deal with Arthur's eh... you'll see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give in to me

**Author's Note:**

> So a long time ago, at the very beginning of my Merlin fandom days, I wrote [Strange Winds](http://archiveofourown.org/works/365502), a body swap story. This is a little extra I wanted to write but never did *g*. You don't need to read SW to get it, all you need to know is that Merlin is stuck in Arthur's body and visa versa.

It is the softest of moans, that wakes him, being the light sleeper that he is when outdoors. The moan takes a moment to locate itself as coming from Merlin’s mouth and it only sinks in when Arthur hears it followed with a very quiet _ah shit_.  
  
‘What’s the matter, Merlin?’ he asks, his voice still low and hoarse with sleep. It’s too early to rise even though grey light already seeps along the slightly dewy forest floor. The fire has all but gone out, casting just enough light over the form that is Merlin in his body.  
  
‘Nothing go back to sleep,’ Merlin answers but his voice sounds choked and Arthur frowns.   
  
‘Man, you sound awful. Are you ill?’ He props himself up on one elbow to have a better look at him, but Merlin rolls away onto his side.  
  
‘No, ‘m fine. Go back to sleep.’   
  
Arthur’s frown only deepens, as does his worry because Merlin really sounds like he is in pain. Quietly he rises to his feet, walks around the still form on the other side of the campfire and squats down.  
  
‘Shit, Arthur, _go away_ _,_ ’ Merlin mutters when he notices him there pulling his cloak closer.  
  
‘Look, if you’re dying here I’d like to know since you’re sort of in my body.’ Arthur tells him a bit miffed, not understanding why Merlin is screwing his eyes shut like that or why he is hunching his shoulders forward as if he is trying to crawl into himself.  
  
‘I’m not dying here okay, I’m fine. Please, just. Leave me alone.’ Merlin’s adam’s apple bobs up and down in an awkward swallow before he tucks his chin into his chest, hiding half his face underneath the cloak. It doesn’t cover up the reddening of his forehead, barely visible in the waning firelight and the swelling dawn.  
  
‘Merlin,’ Arthur says with a small laugh. ‘Are you blushing?’  
  
‘No!’ comes Merlin’s too fast but still muffled reply. ‘Just go away.’  
  
‘All right, I had enough of this.’ Arthur laughs, taking a fist full of the cloak and yanking it away.   
  
Merlin, who is lying curled up with his knees almost touching his chest startles, quickly turning onto his stomach. ‘Bloody hell Arthur, why don’t you just fuck off!’  
  
But it’s too late. The evidence was impossible to miss the way it stood out like a sore thumb. A very large, painful looking sore thumb at that.  
  
‘Oh,’ is all Arthur can say when it dawns on him.   
  
‘Just. Don’t. Okay? Can you just, please leave?’  
  
‘Right,” Arthur says, throat suddenly very dry. “Of course. Eh, how far and how long away do you need?’  
  
‘No. Not like _that_! I mean, just go back to sleep. Or something.’  
  
‘Or something,’ Arthur repeats without thinking and Merlin groans into his bedroll. ‘Sorry. Sure.’ Arthur pushes himself to his feet, walks back to his own sleeping place after tossing another log on the fire, and tucking his cloak around him, lies down. It is impossible to sleep however, his eyes drifting to Merlin against his will whenever he moves or makes a noise he just can’t keep strangled down. Minutes seem to plod by at the rate of a century until the air is so thick Arthur feels like he has trouble breathing.  
  
‘Merlin,’ he tries again after he hears him mouth a particularly heartfelt _Oh God_ into the fabric of his sleeve. But in reply Merlin kicks the cloak off and pushes himself up into a seated position, his legs crossed at the ankles, elbows on his knees and face in hands.   
  
‘Why,’ he croaks into his palms, because he is near desperation and just can’t find the willpower to be embarrassed about talking to Arthur about this. ‘Why won’t it just go down?’  
  
Arthur sits up too and he chews his bottom lip for a moment. ‘It’s my fault.’ He says eventually , coming out with something he didn’t mean to after running so many other responses through his mind.    
  
‘How’d you figure that?’   
  
Arthur stares at Merlin’s hunched form, his own back really, and frowns a little, torn between feeling no desire to discuss this with anyone and sympathy for what Merlin is going through. ‘I didn’t… take care of things for a few days. First there was the border patrol with the knights and there was just no - opportunity and then I was so bone tired, I just didn’t and then this crap happened so… it’s been too long, I guess.’  
  
‘I guess,’ Merlin says, weakly.   
  
‘You know, you can-. I mean,’ Arthur puffs up his cheeks and forces a deep breath between his lips. ‘I can go away and fetch us some fresh water. There is a stream nearby. I’ll be about half an hour.’ He rises to his feet, trying not to think too much about… things.  
  
‘It won’t work,’ Merlin tells him miserably, just when Arthur is about to pass him by, resolutely fixing his eyes on anything but Merlin’s direction. And of course Arthur has to look then and he winces when Merlin doesn’t pull the cloak over his legs in time to hide the strain of his trousers.  
  
‘What do you mean, it won’t work?’ Arthur asks him and he tries not to sound testy.   
  
‘I tried and-,’ Merlin cringes visibly. ‘It is just too weird I think, I-, I can’t … finish.’   
  
The silence swells and Arthur hovers, not knowing what to do or say.  
  
‘Maybe you can point me in the direction of that stream,’ Merlin tells him, weakly attempting a joke but it only sounds a little pitiful. So Arthur doesn’t really know what he is doing when his feet carry him closer to Merlin. When he puts a hand on his shoulder. First his right hand on one, then his left on the other.  
  
‘What are y-,’ Merlin starts, glancing up when Arthur bends at the knees and settles behind him, the inside of his thighs pressing against the outside of Merlin’s hips. ‘Arthur, what?’ Merlin tries again but Arthur only squeezes his shoulders and says; ‘I’m just helping you out.’  
  
‘But-,’  
  
‘Just, don’t think Merlin. Just surrender to me,’ Arthur says as his hands travel down. 


End file.
